The Twilight War by Simon Higgins

his eyes as if rallying his diminished strength. Then he turned and looked defiantly over the arrayed enemy force.
    â€˜Hear me, all of you. You are free to search, at your leisure, for Snowhawk …’ Heron gasped and quickly shook her head at Eagle. Ignoring the gesture, he smiled and added, ‘On one condition.’ Only the crackle of ceiling fires broke the tense pause.
    â€˜Go on,’ his adversary demanded. ‘Name it.’
    â€˜You must first defeat every Grey Light agent in this monastery, starting with me,’ Eagle said solemnly. ‘Only then may you freely hunt her down. She’s ours now.’
    â€˜That’s suicide!’ The Fuma captain pointed at him. ‘You have no chance. We have the upper hand, both in numbers and weaponry.’ He patted his chisai odutsu. ‘Surrender!’
    Eagle gave no reply, instead fixing Heron with a meaningful gaze. Moonshadow saw a tiny shift in her posture. The master had just snuck her a wordless message. But about what? Brother Eagle’s face grew more open and earnest. A deep light flared in his eyes and, as everyone watched in quiet curiosity, he broke into a poem.
    â€˜In bays of blue water, mirrors to the sky, I battle the fish to salt for the winter …’
    Moonshadow knew at once that Eagle was issuing new orders using a clever, deceptively casual code. Eagle and Heron were very close and plainly knew each other’s minds, so she at least would instantly grasp the poem’s hidden meaning. Wouldn’t she?
    â€˜What’s he doing?’ A Fuma ninja muttered. ‘Is this Grey Light witchcraft?’
    â€˜No you fool, he’s reciting his death poem,’ his leader said flatly. ‘He was raised samurai, remember? It’s their custom.’ He nodded at Eagle. ‘Go on then, man, finish it!’
    Looking from Heron to Mantis and back, Eagle pressed on. His voice was steadily growing thin, but a single-minded fire now filled his eyes. ‘Many are their highways, numerous their kin, yet see I just a few, sun-blinded in my nets.’
    Heron returned a barely detectable nod. Mantis, his mouth taut, shot Moonshadow a fleeting but significant glance. It was true! Eaglehad just delivered secret instructions, and now Mantis was warning him: be prepared, support whatever happens next!
    A terrible thought gripped Moonshadow. What if, having now heard the whole poem, the Fuma realised it was a coded message? Despite his pounding heart, he kept a neutral expression on his face.
    The enemy captain looked round, hard eyes moving from one Fuma subordinate to the next. ‘Well! I hope you were all listening! Do you know what that was?’
    Moonshadow felt his heart skip several beats. Any moment this ninja would say the fatal words a code , and with them, all hope would be dashed.
    The Fuma leader waited for an answer that never came, then cleared his throat. ‘I say that was an example , a fine example, to warriors of any creed.’ He snorted, eyeing his silent men. ‘It may not be part of the shinobi way, but I say that such fine, restrained death poetry should be honoured. So … any congratulations, before we slay them all?’
    Nobody chose to clap but one ninja turned and addressed Eagle dutifully. ‘A fine poem, samurai.’ He gave an awkward shrug. ‘And spoken well.’
    As the Fuma watched Eagle acknowledge the compliment with a crisp nod, Heron’s hand slipped into her kimono. Moonshadow caughtthe movement with his peripheral vision, but was careful not to follow it lest he betray Heron to their foes. Her hand moved round subtly just inside the fabric, as if gathering several small items.
    What was the master’s veiled plan? Many are their highways, numerous their kin .
    The fish of the poem had to be their Fuma enemies. They’ve attacked from all directions and completely outnumber us, Eagle was telling his troops. Yet see I just a few. The only